New Game - Hardcore
by Traxsh
Summary: Where the lines between Earth and Minecraft begin to blur. Where Game and Reality begin to mix. And suddenly, nothing makes sense anymore. Steve wakes up in a New Game and he wonders why there's suddenly a need to question common sense.
1. New Game

**A/N: I felt like writing something about Minecraft, but did not know where to start. So, I decided to play hardcore mode and just write everything down that's happened so far- with a little twist of course! I suck at tenses btw, I will try better next chapter.**

**PS: If I die in hardcore mode, this story is gonna end. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Minecraft.**

* * *

Steve blinked. Did he spawn somewhere new? The small island he stood upon suggested that yes, he had spawned somewhere new. But… where was he before? Steve groaned as a splitting headache overwhelmed him out of nowhere. _Right, no more thinking about that subject then._ Steve decided quickly and looked up at the sun. Bright, clear. As good a day as any. For now. He can't remember why he feels a rising dread from the pit of his stomach at the thought of nightfall, but there must be a reason. His gut feeling had never failed him before. At least, he thinks. Who was he anyway? The headache came back, this time even stronger. Steve clutched his head and hissed. "The fuck." Right, no questioning his identity then.

First thing first, he needed to be ready for nightfall and the disaster that awaited him. Steve nodded. "It's decided." He checked the position of the sun, his eyes narrowing at the rays hit his eyes. "It's morning then." Steve sighed in relief. "I still have some time." For some reason, he knew he only had 10 minutes left of the day. It rattles him, to only have so little time left. _But...__it's just a little past daybreak._ Something in him said.

Steve looked around him. The island he stood on consisted solely out of sand and a few cactuses. "Hmm might be useful." Steve walked towards one of the cactuses and raised his fist. "Wait." Steve lowered his fist. "Am I really going to punch a cactus with my bare hands?" His gut told him yes, his mind told him no. What was he to make of that?

"Argh whatever." Steve sighs and raises his fist again. "Here goes nothing." And he punches, his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the pain to flare and warn his mind that _yes, he just fucking punched a cactus like an idiot. _But it never came. Steve opened his eyes and saw a tiny crack appear on the block. It stayed there for a moment before it disappeared right before his very eyes. "The fuck." Steve whispers to himself. "Did that cactus just heal itself?"

He stared intensely at the square cactus. It was made out of 3 individual cubes. Made out of _cubes, _just like everything around him. It felt like common knowledge, but somehow it also feels so _impossible. _"Why is everything made out of cubes anyways?" A headache was his only answer. "Right, thanks for that." Steve muttered. "Very informative."

The headaches were definitely just hints that tell him not to think too much about things. Probably. "Well, I'll just follow that advice for now. No use thinking too hard about it." Steve told himself. "I'm wasting daylight." And wasn't that right, the sun was almost a quarter of the way up and he was still wasting time on this stupid island. He steeled himself and punched the cactus again. A small crack appeared and Steve kept punching until the crack reached the outer edges and just… shrunk and fell on the floor. All three pieces. "What." Steve frowned and reached for the cubes and they… disappear. But he knows he has it somewhere. He knows that they are stackable and that he has thirty-six slots left to fill. Thirty-seven if you count holding something in his left hand. Part of him just _knows, _but another part- the more hysterical part of him- is saying it's impossible, that this is nowhere near reality. Steve shudders. It was almost like there were two people in his mind, fighting each other about whose reality it is.

For now, he'll follow his gut- for it has not betrayed him yet. And the other part hasn't really helped yet, except for saying how _impossible _everything is even though it happened. Afterwards, he'll think about who he is supposed to be.

With three pieces of cactus in his little pocket space, he spots another island. Or maybe it was land? Either way, he needed to get there. The reason? _Trees_. He needs wood to properly function in this world. How he knew that? No idea. But he _knows _in his very being that wood would be key in his survival. So, without another moment of hesitation, Steve jumps into the water and _swam. _"Urgh." Cold, it was cold. It's not supposed to be cold. His gut told him there was no way- but he was. _Cold_, to the very bones and colder still- the more he stayed in the water. "Fuck." Steve cursed. "Shit." Shivers wracked his body. This was not happening. He was _not _going to die of hypothermia. He was almost there, swimming past a row of ice blocks towards the island. The island was surrounded by ice and covered in snow. "Damn it all." Steve just couldn't catch a break. But he had known there was snow. He had seen it from the island he just left. It just never registered in his mind that it could possibly be _cold. _But the other part- the hysterical part- told him that _of course _ice would be cold. That _of course _ocean water would be cold and that swimming in it would cause his potential death. Steve swears to listen to both sides from now on as he climbs on a piece of ice, quickly running towards the dirt. He punches the snow in front of him, breaking the snow and creating a path for him to walk on. He feels that stepping on snow with his thin, leather shoes would be a bad idea.

He felt better underneath the trees, no snow to curse him with the bitter cold. He was still wet, but it was quickly drying. "Thank whatever god is up there that water seems to dry in seconds." Steve muttered as his clothes rapidly dry, leaving him slightly warmer than before. "Now, as for wood…" He walks to the nearest tree he can find and punches it. This time, not all the blocks break the moment he punches them. Disappointing. _Dingdingding. _A bell rings in his mind and suddenly his head is filled with recipes. Things he could make out of wood. Steve grinned. "Awesome." As he continues with his quest to gather wood, he notices that his hands were starting to hurt more and more and he decides to stop for a moment.

He creates wooden planks with the wood he had gathered. "Thirty-two planks, not too bad." Steve says and creates a crafting table with four of the planks in his possession. He was about to put it on the ground, but stops and takes notice of a bright red mushroom and a brown mushroom not too far from him. "Sweet." Food was a good thing. For some reason though, he feels like he wouldn't have bothered to pick them up if there were only red mushrooms and vice versa.

The moment he puts down the crafting table, he makes a wooden sword, axe and a pickaxe. Steve checks the sun and frowns. "Already halfway through…" Steve knew he needed shelter and some light before everything went to hell. He quickly places a few wooden planks around his crafting table. He was going for a little 3x3 hut, but he didn't have enough planks. Steve palms his axe and swings it at the nearest tree. It's a lot quicker than punching, that's for sure. A lot less painful as well.

The finished hut… was honestly quite miserable. But it'll have to do for now. "Now for some light." Steve looks around himself, looking for stone. He could burn wood in the furnace and get some coals. Enough to create a few torches and he'd be set. He decides to dig down for the stone. Quickly he gathered some and ran back to his house. He could hear some ominous clanking sounds in the distance and it made him shiver. It wasn't dark yet though, he still had time. And the moment he made the furnace, he placed the wood in it and some planks as fuel. He made torches after that and placed them carefully around his little hut. Seven were scattered outside and one inside his hut. That should be okay for now.

He still had some time before sundown and replaced all his wooden equipment with stone ones. Steve sighed at the wasted wood. "Should've just made a wooden pickaxe." No use crying over spilt milk though.

"Oh, food." Steve perks up. He wasn't hungry yet, but he'll make some food just in case. Both the entities in him agree with that. He should probably name them. He couldn't just keep calling the hysterical one hysterical. That would be quite rude of him. And it was less hysterical now than it was before. Hm. Well, he never was good with names. He'll name the one who thought it was okay to jump into ice cold water Gut and the hysterical one will be Brain. Simple, easy. There was no one here to laugh at him for his naming sense anyways. That thought send a pang of loneliness through Steve.

There was no one he had. No one to share his frustrations with, no one to tell of his confusion and no one to help him through the night. Steve sighed and sat down in his hut, close to the still slightly warm furnace and the little torch he placed above it. It was getting dark and Gut was getting anxious. Why? Steve wasn't sure. He opened the door to his hut and looked outside. Twilight, it was getting dark. The thought sends fear racing down his spine. All he had to defend himself was a stone sword. No armour, no shield. Why would he need that though? "What's going to happen, why don't I know." Steve groans as his headache started to act up. "Shit." He wanted, _needed_ to know.

"Maybe just for little." Steve walks outside, his hand around the hilt were white and shaking. From the cold or from nerves, or maybe just both. Steve wasn't sure. His breath came out in small puffs, white damp drifted in front of his face, obscuring his vision just for a bit. But despite the fear and Gut's protests, he walks forward and patrols the perimeter around his hut. As time passed, the grip on his sword became less tight.

"It's actually quite peaceful," Steve says as he looked at the stars. However, Gut is still churning and groaning with nerves and _fear _and- _Twang! _An arrow buried itself deep into the snow before him. The clanking sounds from earlier came back, louder than before. Chilling moans came from somewhere around him, but for the life of him- _he did not know where. Twang! _Another arrow, right next to his feet and too close for Steve's liking. That was as good a sign as any. He needed to go back to his hut. _Now. _

Steve didn't wait to see what shot those arrows and bolts for his little hut. Moans and clanking and hissing and _rot _attacked his senses. As if it all appeared out of nowhere the moment the sun went down. _Twang! _Some of Steve's hair was cut off by the arrow that flew right past his face. And Steve realises he could have died right there and then. His heart thundered in his chest as he tried his best to run and not encounter any more arrows on his way. But as his luck would have it, something jumped in front of him as he was about to reach his hut.

The first thing Steve noticed was the _stench _of rotten flesh. Then, the actual creature in front of him registered in his mind. "Zombie." Steve's eyes widened. The _thing _in front of him was _decaying_ and _gross _and very much after his _life_\- he did the only thing that made sense. He raised his sword in one smooth motion and slammed it down on the thing in front of him. The zombie groaned and was pushed back a bit, but it took another step forward the moment it got its bearings. Steve swung his sword again and _again and again- _until it was finally dead. _Pling. _The zombie fell over and shattered into little lights on the ground. Steve probably would have admired the beauty of the little lights if he wasn't in such a hurry to not die a horrible death.

And so, he ran through the pretty lights, not noticing that he absorbed the lights. He saw something on the ground, though it was too dark to see what it was. He quickly picks it up and runs towards his door, pulls it open and slams it shut. Steve leaned against the door, his chest heaving and his mind in total disarray. One thing constantly ringing through his mind. "There are fucking monsters that roam at night." He pants. "Fucking man-eating zombies after my life." Steve's trembling hands reached for his hair, clutching at it as if somehow, he could make everything disappear. "What the fuck is this." And he slides down on the floor, his back still leaning on the door.

"The fuck…" Steve mumbles as he buries his face in his knees. He desperately wanted to sleep, but with all the noise outside his hut, the thought seemed like a distant wish.


	2. It's Raining Red

**Notice: A/N's are at the bottom of every chapter.**

* * *

Steve sat curled up against the door when morning came. The noises outside never ceased to bother him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore them. Sleep didn't come to him either. He needed a bed for that, though with all the monsters nearby, he doubted that he could fall asleep.

Steve opens the door for a peek and then quickly slammed it shut. Twilight. It was almost dawn. A relieved sigh escaped his lips. He would go outside once the sun bathes the outside world with its light. No sooner than that, for Steve would not risk another encounter with one of those monsters.

He took this time to look at his pocket space. _Inventory. _Steve blinked. Right, how could he have forgotten? The pocket space he kept thinking of, it was his inventory. Something so basic… how could he not have known? But Brain protests inside his head. _Impossible. _It says. Steve frowns. But why? Why was it so unnatural? Why was it supposed to be common sense as well? Of course, Steve got nothing but a stinging headache for his troubles.

Steve sighs and decides to think of it later. Right now, he wanted to see what exactly it was that he picked up yesterday. He opens his inventory and pulls it out. Immediately the smell of rotting flesh fills his nose and Steve gags. "What in the world-!" Steve pinches his nose and holds the piece of zombie flesh as far away from his body as he dares. There was no doubt about it. This was zombie flesh from the zombie he killed the night before.

Not wanting to smell it and not wanting to throw it outside out of fear it would attract other monsters- Steve put it back in his inventory. "Right, I am _not _pulling that out anytime soon," he grumbles to himself. It could rot in his inventory for all he cared. "It won't affect my pocket space anyways." Steve furrows his brows as he thought about it. "Probably," he amended lamely.

Well, he would deal with it when the time comes. For now, it was probably already light outside. _Hopefully. _Steve thinks to himself as he pushed his door open.

"-GARGH" Steve slams the door shut. Okay, so he would wait a few more seconds then.

"ARGH" …

"GRARH" …

That… did not sound good. Steve peeks through his door again and saw _fire. _The monsters were on _fire. _He could hardly believe his eyes, but it was good. It was _glorious. _Like the fire was purifying the monsters from within. Steve's grip on his sword became stronger, the sun's rays on his skin giving him burning courage he'd never felt before. _Now was the time. _Gut told him. _Now is the time to finish them off, take their loot. _Steve felt a strong conviction from Gut.

He decides to follow up on it.

_Bang! _His door slams open as Steve charges ahead, his eyes darting over the landscape in front of him, noting all the potential threats. _To my right, one zombie. To my left, one spider. _He took it all in and decides. The zombie needed to go first. And so, he did- Steve charged at the burning zombie and smote it with his stone sword. One swipe and the zombie lay on the ground in scattered lights. _Next. _Gut tells him, _implores _him to take his chance _now _rather than later. And Steve goes along with it, adrenaline and pride bursting in his chest. He felt _purpose _burning through his bloodstream. _This _was what he lived for.

And so, he focused on his next target. The lone spider next to his house. Up till now, all it had done was watch Steve down the zombie. It didn't look inclined to attack him either. But Gut knew better. _It will become a menace at night. _At night, the spider's hide would be hard to spot. Coupled with its speed and dexterity-_it needs to die right now. _Steve decides. It needed to go down now, while he could get the first hit in.

Steve ran towards the spider and raised his sword high, a battle cry bubbling up at the back of his throat- "HAAH!" -and his sword cleaved right _through _the monster's back. Despite how grievously wounded it was, it was still alive, however. Steve took a sharp breath and thrust his sword through the spider's head. _Dead, _at last. Scattered into pretty little lights on the ground. Steve takes a moment to catch his breath, panting hard now that the adrenaline left his system.

Steve stares at the light particles in front of him. Well, it would be more accurate to say that he stared _through _the light particles. For he was not truly looking in front of him, he was lost in thought.

Part of him, Brain's part, wanted to vomit right there on the spot. Expecting something akin to blood- _what's that anyway? - _ from the wounds he dealt the spider and the zombie. Somehow, he expected to feel _gross _and _guilty _for killing monsters. The give of flesh and the end of lives at his hands. For killing a zombie that had looked so much like a human.

But he didn't. He did not feel sick at the thought of killing those monsters. _Mobs. _Gut helpfully provides. He did not feel a shred of sympathy for the mobs that tried so hard to kill him just last night. Fear? Yes, he felt a healthy dose of fear when confronted with those creatures. But sympathy? _Never. _Gut rages inside him. He had felt so alive when killing those mobs, like it was his purpose for existing all along. Like destiny, almost.

Brain protests though. It talks about his state of mind, of sanity, of psychopaths, and of _balance_. And Steve wants to agree with Brain, he wants to nod his head and say that yes, that is important too. But he can't. Not right now, because he does not need sympathy- for _anyone. _He does not feel like it would help him right now to feel something like _sympathy _for those monsters. That way lies madness. And quite possibly his death as well.

And so, he doesn't. He decides to ignore Brain and collect the loot on the ground. One spider eye, one string and two pieces of zombie flesh. The moment he put everything in his inventory. He sees a flash of brown in the corner of his eye.

Steve grips his sword and turns in that direction, slowly making his way towards the tree he swore he saw that flash last. His heart beat loudly in his chest as he leaned against the tree. What kind of monster would it be? Could he handle it? Steve grit his teeth. _He would have to. _

Just as Steve was ready to turn and charge- "Mooooo." Steve flinches as the sound. M-moo? A cow? He peeked past the tree he was leaning against. Yes. A freaking _cow. _Not a monster.

"Well, that's a good thing I guess," Steve sighs and lowers his sword, making his way to the cow. Steve took a good look at the cow and huffed a laugh, "I wonder how _you _survived the night." And wasn't that right? A meaty, dumb cow in the middle of a dark forest infested with mobs.

Steve rubbed the brave cow's head and coos, "Who's a good cow." All he got in return though, was an empty stare and a half-hearted, "Moo."

Despite the lackluster response, Steve grins. Finally, a creature _not _after his head. At that moment though, Gut decides to act up.

_Food. _Gut crows. _Leather. Resources. _It fusses. _KillKillKILL. _Gut _insists. _And Steve raises his sword, panicking. In one fell swoop, _blood _rained today.

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**Thank you PugLife0 for reviewing! Your review made me feel like writing again, so this quick update is largely because of you ^^**

**Did y'all notice I brushed up on my dialogue? I tried to keep my tenses more consistent this time. **

**I still have much to improve, but this is for fun so, I'm trying not to fuss too much about the rules~**

**Please review and share your thoughts! Keep in mind though: This story is _not _going to look like the normal vanilla Minecraft at all (I'm playing 1.15.2 btw). Well, there's _blood _for one. And well, the rest is a surprise! **

**I _did _mention I was following what I was doing in Hardcore Minecraft, but that's more of a reference for me. How much can I get done in one day? How many mobs will realistically spawn? That kind of thing. It also makes world-building a bit easier for me. Don't worry, this actually has a plot other than just me playing Minecraft. **


	3. Gut to the Rescue!

_Food. _Gut squirmed and heaved in excitement. _Leather, resources, prey- _Steve shuts out Gut's emotions and voice with difficulty. He raised his trembling hands in front of his face, looking at the _blood_ running down his palms and to his elbows in red, viscous streaks. _What's blood? Blood? _Gut's curiosity leaked through, and Steve hissed. "Get. Out."

But of course, it did nothing. Gut was always present. _Hm, blood? Loot? Resources?_

_I told you, _Brain said. _I told you. _And Steve can't remember Brain's advice, likely because he ignored its presence. _Told you, but you wouldn't listen. I told you. I did. _And now, both of them were working on his last nerves.

"Stop," Steve pleaded. "Stop talking," he asked, his bloodied hands covered his ears, smearing the liquid on his face in the progress. The metallic smell of blood did little to distract him from the conflicting thoughts in his head.

_Wrong, cruel, didn't need to- _

_Survive, kill, necessary- _

_I told you-_

_Loot, resources- _

_I told-_

_Kill- _

_You-_

_Prey- _

"STOP!" Steve roared. His voice loud and echoing through the island. That single scream somehow taking more energy than killing the mobs and cow combined.

Steve panted, lowering his hands from his head. _Blessed silence. _

He stumbled back from the dead cow in front of him. He still remembered the moment he'd lost control to Gut. His arms had moved before he could think, and he'd swung his sword right at its neck, killing it in an instant. The blood had spurted out before he could pull away.

It coated his hands, and now, his face as well. Steve looked at the cow, the blood was still flowing even now, leaving through the cow's neck in buckets of crimson liquid. It dyed the snow around it a bright, vibrant red, the colour a stark contrast to the morbid scene.

But it wasn't so much the kill, that got him so shaken, it was the fact that Gut had _taken control, _however short it had been. In a few- critical- seconds, Gut had taken a life.

And Steve had not been able to do anything about it. It had been out of surprise that he hadn't reacted on time, yes, but that was a lame excuse. And he knew it.

Not only would he have to defend himself against monsters, he now had to look out for the entities in his mind as well. Steve shivered at the thought. At any moment- he could lose his life at the hands of… himself? He didn't know where to even _begin _describing what they were.

At first, he'd thought they were a part of him, as much as his limbs were a part of his body. He'd thought they were parts of his conscious, weirdly separate- but still _him. _

Clearly, he'd been wrong. They had their own will, their own thoughts and desires. And they lived inside of him, ready to take over in a moment of weakness. _Just a few seconds… _He thought grimly. _In a few seconds, I could throw myself at a mob, step off a cliff, raise my own blade to my neck-_

His whole body was shaking, and while he knew it was more from shock than the actual cold- he rubbed his hands together for warmth. Dry, flaky bits of blood peeled off and drifted to the icy ground beneath him.

"Survive…" Steve muttered to himself as he stared at his hands. Right, all he needed to concentrate on right now, was survival. This blood, wasn't _his _blood. And that means, he got to survive for another day.

So, he stepped back to the cow, ready to take his loot, like Gut so eloquently put. The meat had been laying there for a while, but luckily, the cold prevented the meat from rotting too fast. Steve would have rolled up his sleeves- if he had any- and went to work.

He took his stone sword and brought it to the cow's hide. The moment it touched the leather, the cow glowed softly and dispersed into little lights, leaving only a few slabs of meat and a few pieces of leather behind. _Convenient. _Steve thought. _But I could've gotten more out of that cow. What a waste of resources. _

Steve cringed. He had sounded way too much like Gut- _Leather! Meat! _Gut piped up in his mind. "Speak of the devil…" Steve grit his teeth. _And he shall appear. _

Still trying to shut Gut's voice out, he walked towards the meat and leather on the ground, and put it in his inventory. As he made to leave though, the little lights on the ground drifted towards him, disappeared into his skin when they got too close.

Steve raised an eyebrow in surprise and patted the area of his skin the light particles touched. "Did this always happen?" _All mobs leave exp~ Killing leaves exp~ _Gut sing-songed in his mind, its cheerful tone not quite managing to hide its malice.

"…right." Steve regretted asking.

* * *

He had gathered all the wood in his immediate area, and disassembled his house. He even picked up the torches left outside, though, how they still burned was weirdly convenient. _No logic in this world. _Brain moaned. _Nothing makes sense. _

"You and me both…" he sighed and pulled his sword out of his inventory. With his pocket space full of everything he possessed, Steve only had one thing left to do- and that was leaving this godforsaken island.

Steve palmed his sword and headed towards the only direction he could go- towards the North, where he almost died because of an arrow.

He set a fast pace, wanting to get off the island as fast as possible, his feet crushing the packed snow beneath him. He passed countless pine trees and stepped on even more cold snow. And as he had guessed once before, his leather shoes did indeed not fare well against the snow on the ground. It bothered him, but he did not have the time to shove away the snow in front of him.

There was no doubt in his mind that he'd need all the time he could get. Not only to find a suitable place to stay for a while, but he'd also need enough time to build his little hut and set a perimeter of torches. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, but it was highly likely that those monsters disliked light. Whether it was any light, or just sunlight, he'd have to find out for himself later on.

Steve gripped his sword tighter as the woods became a bit denser the farther he walked. At this point, he couldn't turn back even if he wanted to. The entire walk had cost him almost half a day, and the sun was beginning to set.

He bit his lower lip as Gut began to churn restlessly. If it had been the first day, he would have listened more to Gut. But after the stunt he had pulled today, Steve was less inclined to trust either entity in his body. How could he possibly trust them, when he didn't even know what their intentions were.

How could he trust them, when everything they've said until now has been so contradictory? No, Steve would decide for himself this time, instead of being led by them so easily.

_Listen, listen, listenLISTEN-! _Steve grimaced as Gut _demanded_ his attention in his mind, almost bringing him to his knees with the sheer volume. "What." He hissed, his annoyance clear as day as he addressed Gut.

But no reply came from Gut, only an unnatural _stillness_ he hadn't expected from the rowdy entity. Steve tensed, crouching low as he looked around for possible threats and cursed himself for listening to Gut, _again._

Even though last time didn't go well at all, there was something to Gut's _certainty _that had him listening to it all over again. Something in the way Gut always seemed to respond to things immediately, as if by instinct rather than the conscious mind.

_Hisssssss-_

Steve jumped as he suddenly heard Gut _screech. _The same feeling of _powerlessness _washed over him as he felt Gut violently fight for control. It pushed at him, forcing him into his mindscape for a scant few seconds as it took control.

Gut turned his- _their_\- body around sharply, jumping as far as he could. _Escape, creeperESCAPE-_

A deafening _BOOOM! _echoed through the forest and Steve was sent _flying. _All the air was pushed out of his lungs the moment he landed, leaving him gasping for breath.

Steve laid there for a few minutes longer, catching his breath and coming to terms with what had just happened. The smell of soot was heavy in the air, and burnt bits of wood dug uncomfortably in his back. If Gut had been only a second later…

_He would have been dead. _

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, not willing to face reality for a little while longer. But Gut _and _Brain urged him up. _You can't stay down, what if another one shows up? _Brain reasoned, just as Gut just send him feelings of _urgency _and _caution _and _fear. _

And really, Steve couldn't- didn't want to- argue with that line of reasoning. He grit his teeth and pushed himself up, his body luckily still able to function well despite the fact that he felt like utter shit.

He took a minute to figure out which way he came from and started walking the minute he knew where he needed to go. Walking wasn't an issue, surprisingly, and neither did he feel like his body suffered any from the explosion. Yet, despite all of that, he felt like he was on the brink of death. Gut agreed vehemently. _Mushroom soup. Cure. Eat. _And Steve, too tired to even argue, listened. He was hungry anyway.

He opened his inventory and took out the mushroom soup he had made back in his little hut, the soup sliding easily down his parched throat and Steve immediately felt a bit better. Continuing his walk, he couldn't help but wish for more food. He could pull out his furnace and cook the beef he had stashed in his inventory, but he didn't want to stay in one place for too long after the experience he'd just had.

Gut send him _acknowledgement, approval, fear- _Steve had been thinking about it for a while now, but he suspected that his earlier loss of control, both with the cow and now with that explosion, might've made Gut's presence more tangible in his mind. He could feel Gut press against the edges of his conscious, and hear its voice clearer than ever. It suddenly seemed like a monstrous task to push Gut to the back of his mind as he had before either incident. It made Steve apprehensive.

A soft rustling sound drew his attention, and he looked to his right. His eyes widened as he saw a _person _for the first time. A man, of about the same height as him with messy farmer's attire and a rather sizeable nose. _I'm saved, _Steve thought and gave the man a hopeful smile. "Hi! I'm-"

"C-crafter!" The man cut him off, pointed a shaking finger at him. The fear palpable on his face as the man started backing away, his back never once turned towards Steve.

_What?_

* * *

**So, a creeper kind of fell on top of me and I died. Well, that was rather short-lived... **

**I didn't really feel like quitting this story though, so from this point onwards- I'm winging it lmao. This means that from now on, I will actually start planning the plot. Seeing as I'm going to merge reality and Minecraft, this may seem AU to most people out there.**

**This chapter might seem a bit rushed, it's 05:45 right now and I've been writing since a few hours ago. My sleeping schedule is shot to hell. **


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